Harry's FoxDemon Family
by Deadly Sin Of Mine
Summary: Kyuubi isn't the only fox demon around. The Kitsune clan has been broken up for years, and it was the loss of his family that drove Kyuubi away from his homeland, once known as 'Fox Paradise'. Only, Kyu doesn't know about the other lone survivor...
1. Imperfectly Abnormal

**A/N: Hello, my dear little kittens... Curiosity has brought you here, so allow me to satisfy it.**

**This story was born when I was looking for Harry Potter/Naruto crossovers. I found one with a most interesting idea, but it was not... let's say, _well-written_. So, I decided I would try my hand at it. I started off just seeing if I could rewrite to something I would bother reading, and it ended up morphing into something I actually really wanted to write.**

**Turns out, it's really fun to write Harry in pain. Hehe... ^^'**

**But anyway, read on and tell me what you think.**

**Please?**

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**_Prologue: Imperfectly Abnormal_**

Number 4, Privet Drive was, as always, having a perfectly normal night. The sky was perfectly clear, the stars twinkling perfectly normally, and the waning moon shed moonlight on the perfect little houses with their perfect little gardens and perfectly trimmed lawns and pretty, _perfect_ white picket fences.

For the one thing -or, rather, _person_- that was the furthest thing from perfect, normal, and especially _perfectly normal_, it was a rather sickening sight.

Harry Potter, having been away for many months at a place that was _nowhere near_ normal, or, as he was finding out, perfect in any way, could only feel like everything he did, every time he breathed, every time he _thought_, he was violating some rule of the universe by existing in all his imperfection and abnormality while staying in such a place where such things were generally, subconsciously, totally unaccepted.

Indeed, the Dursleys were the only ones who seemed almost fanatically aware of his very presence, and were so obsessed with hiding it that they, themselves, were frighteningly abnormal.

Thinking about the Dursleys was leaving a bitter taste in his mouth, so Harry stopped.

Instead, he tried concentrating on his homework, all the while all-too-aware that his thoughts were latching onto his mind and screaming for attention.

Of course, it was only natural that since he had been so deprived in childhood that the imaginary manifestation of that particular metaphor were reflecting such deep-rooted desire to be… well, not _noticed_, but acknowledged.

Acknowledged for all that he had done, for his determination to earn the love of his family, for being something other than a _freak_ or the Wizarding World's little _saviour_-

Harry quickly clamped down on that trail of thought, knowing it would only cause him pain that he did _not_ need right now.

Hedwig, his beautiful, faithful Hedwig, gave him a sad, comforting hoot from her perch on the bed-post, where she had been watching Harry tear himself up. He smiled at her a little, taking the hint and putting away his barely-begun essay on transfiguration that had been giving him headaches for all of three hours.

Needless to say, his attempts to distract himself were not working.

Rubbing at his eyes, which had been throbbing in pain more and more as the seconds ticked by, he hauled himself out of his seat and moved towards his bed.

And promptly stumbled over nothing as the pain behind his eyes spiked and spread all the way to his finger-tips and back.

Catching himself by throwing out his hands toward the bed, his body shuddered without warning and he sank to the floor as a sudden cold flush came over him.

Uncomfortable, sweaty and in quite a lot of pain, he very nearly bit through his lip to stop a yell that definitely would have woken at least one of his relatives.

He felt the bile rise up in his throat, and half-crawled, half-ran out of his room and the relative safety of the weak, easily-broken silencing wards he'd begged Remus to put up for him, heading towards the bathroom as quietly as his trained subconscious could allow while in such a state.

When the door had been shut and he had the comfort of the holy porcelain bowl well within reach, he wretched up the contents of his stomach -which admittedly wasn't much- and shivered.

He was still shivering minutes later, even as the pain dulled just a little and he forced himself to the sink where he washed the sick off his face. When he looked up into the mirror, his eyes widened and then flinched shut as another wave of pain, stronger than the last, swept through him and forced him to clamp his jaw shut tightly in an effort not to scream.

Unlike the first, this pain did not stay for long, slowly disappearing as Harry watched his reflection in numb fascination.

He watched as the pale skin he had always known melted away to a colour closer to bone-white, as he felt and saw his hair growing and _growing_, as he himself grew in both height and presence and his muscles filled out, though remaining lean. He watched as his glasses disintegrated into black powder and sand and his pupils shrunk and grew and convulsed until they were a cat-like slit in the bathroom's bright lighting, and the emeralds that were his eyes brightened and changed until they were as close to Avada-Kedavra green as genetics could allow, and swirled with a power not seen in even Dumbledore's twinkling blues or Voldemort's gleaming reds. He watched as his hair, which had stopped lengthening when it reached his heals, slowly turned silver from the roots outwards, then black again and finally deciding on pure white, moon-bright strands among obsidian-black background of hair.

He watched as his scar, which had caused him so much grief, simply faded into oblivion, forever cutting whatever connection it had held to the one who gave it to him as a baby.

The last of the pain, just a faint prickling, receded until it left nothing but the memory of it –and even that was fuzzy.

With its absence came an exhaustion Harry didn't know his body was capable of, and he almost slumped to the floor in its suddenness, and its strength.

Harry sat there for a while, just trying to remember how to breathe, how to think. What in the world had happened to him? Well, at least it wasn't Voldemort. After all, why would a man who wanted to kill him improve his eyesight to the point that wearing glasses would probably blind him?

Therefore, what reason did he have to tell Dumbledore if it had nothing to do with the Dark Lord?

Harry's mouth twisted into a sardonic smile, and he _felt_ it as his lips slid over sharp, animal-like canines. He was aware of every nerve, of every twitch his body inadvertently made, and of the power running through his veins and out into his limbs. His own heartbeat seemed to boom within his ribcage, and he could hear the sound of the house's structure creaking and the bushes surrounding their property rustling as nocturnal animals moved through them and the wind pulled at them ever-so-slightly. He could hear the sounds the Dursleys made in their sleep, Vernon's laboured, uneven breathing, Dudley's snoring, and Petunia's constant shifting. It was exhilarating.

And it was giving him a headache. He couldn't block the annoying, constant sounds out. It was maddening.

He dragged himself out of the bathroom, one hand clutching at his head and pulling at his hair while the other felt out for the wall, guiding him back to his room.

Once there, he collapsed, curled up on his bed with his hands clamped over his ears, and pleaded with whatever deities were listening to _please stop it shut them UP_!

Concerned and confused hooting joined in the ear-splitting symphony and for a single moment, Harry wanted nothing more than to scream. Distraught shudders wracked his frame and something inside him went _snap!_ And suddenly all the sounds, the loud _stopped_. He felt his magic flowing from his core to his ears, muting everything until the only thing he could hear was Hedwig's quiet screeching.

His body let out a tired, relieved sigh without his mind's consent, because his mind was still picking up the pieces of itself from his little bout of desperation in the face of a senses-overload.

That… was immensely painful.

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**A/N: Ehehe... yeah. So, what do ya think?**

**Should I continue? Should you keep reading if I do?**

**Am I being too cruel to Harry?**

**Well, your opinion on that last one doesn't really matter. It's not like I'll _stop_ torturing our poor Savior... Mwahahaha :3**

**Alright, I'll stop cackling to myself now...**

**Ciao,**

**-Deadly  
**


	2. Naturally Instinctive

**A/N: Whoa. Like, just _whoa_. _You guys keep th__is up? They'll have to start calling Story Alerts spam._**

**Well, my kittens, it's here. The chapter you have apparently all been waiting for. I mean, _seriously_, it's been... a small amount of time. (Yeah, I'm not good with time) My inbox is freaking _flooded_. I can't find any of Dell's emails in this mess!**

**If I'm being truthful, I was not expecting this kind of reaction _at all_. One lovely reviewer even wondered why I'm not writing novels! Do you know how much that means to me? *sniff* Gosh, I love you guys.**

**Ahem. Anyway... I forgot last time (well, not really. I just didn't think anyone would guess it from what little I put in the first chapter) that I didn't tell you which story this was based off (and it was really only the very basic idea), but one other wondeful reviewer guessed and guessed correctly; I got the idea after skimming the first chapter of Ashura, The Silver** **Fox Demon. I'd like to mention now that yes, I will be using Ashura for Harry's name, but only because Asura didn't sound right and Azura is apparently a girl's name. It might interest you to know that Ashura means 'tenth' in Arabic, and I can't tell if that was meant to be on purpose or not, but it is in this story. I believe 'Ashura' is also connected to Japan as a supernatural guardian or something alike to that, and means friend in Swahili. I like the name, so sue me.**

**Please don't sue me, I _know_ I forgot the Disclaimer and I am putting it here:**

**DeadlySinOfMine, AKA, Artemis Reinahrdt, AKA, Erin** **Amunet, I could go on but I won't (lucky you), does not and (probably) never will own Harry Potter _or_ Naruto, nor any characters or canon situations, which belong to JK Rowling and Masashi Kisimoto respectively. The inspiration (and idea of a demonfox!Harry) for this story belongs (I think) to someone called _HarbingerLady_. I have never met, spoken to, or _seen in person_ any of these people, and have little interest to do so. This story is fanfiction, and I call artistic liscence for anything that isn't exactly accurate or canon. (I'd still appreciate it if you would tell me when I do something that isn't accurate or canon, in case it _is_ a mistake and not just me ignoring what really happened, for one reason or another. Just don't be mean about it or I'll retaliate in kind cause honestly? Just 'cause I'd be in Hufflepuff doesn't mean I can't make you cry.)**

**Thankyou, and enjoy the story.**

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_Naturally Instinctive_

A bloodbath.

Animalistic howls and shrieks of pain filled heavy, humid air, thick with mist and fear and _death_. The sounds of war and fighting and killing everywhere; in front of him; behind him; above him.

His pulse raced -in excitement and anticipation or horror, he didn't know. But he didn't think it was horror.

He took in the ground soaked with red and the weeping skies overrun by dark, _black_ clouds, and the elements burning and swirling and flooding and shaking around him. Warriors cried out in despair as comrades and friends and family and lovers fell to cold steel and unrepentant eyes, explosions rocked the earth and swallowed people whole, and all the while he stood in the middle of the carnage, letting his senses drown in it all.

It was glorious.

"Ashura! ASHURA!"

* * *

Harry's eyes snapped open as he lurched up from his bed and took great, gulping breaths of the stale air that permeated his room. His chest heaved and his heart pounded in his ears, making him disorientated even as his mind told him where he was, how many exits there were, where each piece of broken, rickety furniture was in his small, crowded room and that Hedwig was still sleeping peacefully in her cage.

He let out a shuddering sigh and ran a hand through damp hair with a clammy hand. He hadn't even realized he'd fallen asleep.

Shakily, he lifted himself out of bed and stumbled to his window, tearing it open and leaning on the window sill, his flushed face getting a blast of crisp, night air. Breathing in deeply, he pondered the dream he'd just had.

Something told him that hadn't been sent from Voldemort.

_Actually_, he thought, swallowing nervously_, if anything, it probably has to do with my 'new look'_.

Perhaps, if he had been willing to truly delude himself, he might have thought it had _all_ been a dream, but even he couldn't ignore his moon-coloured skin, ankle-length hair and enhanced senses. Ron probably wouldn't have even noticed if it had happened to him, but Harry was not so lucky as to be _that_ oblivious, no matter what Hermione and Ginny said.

With an amused snort, Harry wandered over to Hedwig, who was still snuggled up on her cage's perch, awake and watching him. She let out a confused sound and tilted her head.

"I don't know what's going on either, girl," he murmured, smiling bitterly, "I'm just as clueless as you."

He frowned as he thought back on his dream. He couldn't remember any precise details, or if there were any at all. Just that it had been a battlefield and that it had made him excited. Happy, even.

His chest seemed to tighten around his lungs and his stomach clenched unpleasantly, making him feel vaguely sick. Was Voldemort having more of an influence on him than he thought?

Or… or was he just a bad person?

Harry jumped when Hedwig batted her wing against the bars of her cage, close to his face, as if saying _don't be stupid_. And, he realized, he _was_ being stupid.

He was smarter than this! He could deal with this on his own. Before Hogwarts, he'd dealt with everything on his own.

And it seemed he really _would_ have to again. It wasn't as if he could go to the Order for help; they were about as effective as a newborn fox kit. Less, perhaps.

"I don't need the Order running around me panicking like headless chickens. They all just do more harm than good, don't they, girl?" Hedwig hooted in agreement, and Harry grinned, hyper-aware once again of his fangs, and the claws his fingernails had mutated into. He must have looked incredibly feral.

_The Dursleys are going to freak when they find me like this_, he thought, grimacing. _I need to find a way to cover this up_.

"Something muted my hearing when I couldn't adjust… my magic must have risen up with my emotions, and followed my desire to make the sound stop… so, if I wanted it enough, I _should_ be able to… well, do _something_ to hide this. Right?"

The snowy owl just stared at him, and he frowned. This called for research.

_Hermione would be shocked if she knew_, he mused, and smiled, just a little.

Unfortunately, he was acutely aware of the lack of books to research _with_, or his knowledge on the subject, which meant there would be a lot of trial and error in his near future. The only thing he actaully, _really_ knew about wandless magic was that it was supposed to be impossibly difficult, or not even possible at all. Accidental magic was, apparently, totally unrelated to wandless magic and couldn't be done on purpose.

At least, that was what he had gleaned from Hermione's obsessive quoting the year before when he had started speculating on the use of such magicks in battle. Being shot down for five hours straight had successfully put him off that little project, but now he would have to continue it out of necessity.

He could do necessity. He had lived with the Dursleys for as far back as he could remember. You didn't come out of something like that as he had without shedding everything that made every child, well, _a child_.

Deciding on his next course of action (and blocking out any thought of the Dursleys), he foraged his room for a reflective surface –preferably a mirror. He even convinced himself to sift through the mountains upon mountains of Dudley's broken or unwanted toys that _still_ cluttered his room. He should probably get rid of those at some point in the future, maybe by setting them on fire.

After a few minutes of searching, he finally resigned himself to borrowing the tiny mirror he'd put in Hedwig's cage for her to play around with, apologizing for taking it even as she just bobbed her head and watched what he would do in apparent interest. He really loved that owl.

Simply concentrating on his eyes and imagining them changing did squat, as he found out, but it did give him a little more time to just slow down and _think_.

When he'd woken up, he'd gone through every action without really thinking, really feeling. He was numb, he realized, from shock. His mind wouldn't _concentrate_ on anything properly, and it was hindering his ability to do what he did best –survive. So, he sat there for a few moments, leaning his head against his bed and flexing his toes, finding distracted amusement when they sunk into the wood and trying to clear his mind.

_First thing first_, he thought, _I need to figure out what to do_.

He'd decided early on that he wouldn't tell anybody, because anybody that he could tell either wouldn't listen or would go running to Dumbledore, and he'd lost all -admittedly shaky- faith in the man when he let Sirius do something so stupid. Let _him_ do something so stupid.

And it had been stupid. He'd known that when he had come up with such a shoddy, barely-formed, doomed-to-fail-catastrophically plan to go to the Ministry and rescue Sirius, long before he realized no one needed rescuing except him and the students that had followed him into such a situation. But really, _why_ would he tell adults who had never, _ever_ helped him before? Who had never listened, never believed him? That acted just like the Dursleys, told him he was wrong or a liar, or even insane?

Harry _knew_ these people, had known (most of) them for years, and it didn't take a genius to guess their reactions to his little… _predicament_. No, he wouldn't be telling them any time soon.

The changes _did_ give him something he'd never had before, though; an unrecognizable face. There was no tell-tale scar for people to gawk at, only a basic resemblance to what the world knew as Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Lived, and if his eyes were a dead give-away (and he didn't think they were –these eyes were not quite the Evans green anymore) then all he had to do was get contacts. Or succeed with a wandless glamour.

Simple.

Anonymity.

_Freedom_.

Harry got to work, plotting his escape from Number 4, Privet Drive while, outside, Mundungus' shift was just beginning.

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**A/N: Well, that's it. Tell me what you think, review, blah, blah, blah. I won't force you. But please, don't just put the story on Alert or in Favourites, because I value your honest opinions and if my inbox is going to be crowded with alerts for the Alerts and Favourites, it ought to be filled to the brim with Reviews, as well.**

**Of course, you don't have to review if you don't really have anything to say, I suppose. You could always ask _me_ questions, though, if you wanted.**

**Anyway, thanks to all of you who read, reviewed, and added this to Alerts and/or Favourites. You have no idea how happy that makes me.**

**Love,**

**Deadly.**


	3. Memorable Escape

_**A/N: ... I have no excuse... I'm sorry, but every time I went to work on this chapter I found myself switching to other tasks... I really am sorry I made you wait so long. Totally my fault, I blame no one but myself.**  
_

**Anyway... before anyone asks, the reason there are so many switches between points of view in this chapter is because I couldn't find a clean way to transition from one scene/time to another otherwise, plus now you have a vague idea of what's going on on the shinobi side of things. Not much, but there's no way I'm giving the game away so soon!  
**

**Also, I'd like to point out something in the last chapter... some of you may have taken note of Harry's comparison of the Order's usefulness to new-born kits or something like that... YOU may have noticed that, but Harry actually didn't. The fact that he even thought such a strange thing didn't really register. If you're wondering why I did that, it's so you can see that his mindset is kind of rearranging itself into a more kitsune-like thinking pattern. I believe I did something like that again here, although less kitsune and more subconsciously remembering something, plus this time he actually notices it :).  
**

**On the matter of the title... the 'memorable' is referring mostly only to the start, and the 'escape' mostly only to the rest, but I'm sure you guys could come up with something relevant to it in both parts.  
**

_**Anyway... Onward!**  
_

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_**Memorable Escape**  
_

_Ashura_…_ Ashura_…

In a village hidden from the world by an unseen barrier that would forever obscure a place named for the Elements, a small blonde child –of only age three, in fact- tossed and turned in his shabby second-hand futon. This boy was dreaming, of something not really his and that he would not, in the morning, remember, but dreaming it all the same.

_The skies were black as ink, black as the older kitsune's two tails. Tiny diamonds flecked the colourless void like spilled mercury and a silvery moon lit the vast, forested lands below. The younger, red-pelted fox snuck closer to his companion, his single tail wrapping around himself as he listened to Ashura naming the constellations with something akin to reverence in his tone._

"_-and there, she is the Sphinx of Thebes, a land far away from here. She is new, that one, but already her power is remarkable. She guards the Gates to the Great City, giving any who wish to pass only a single chance to answer her riddle. Those who cannot answer perish."_

_The eighth son of_ _Arashi**(1)**_,_ Inari's favoured messenger and Protector of Fushimi, turned his red-rimmed eyes to gaze at the large grouping of stars that his brother, third son of Arashi, was pointing his ink-furred nose towards._

"_And, next to her… Otou-sama's star… Inari's Honoured Gift to our family."_

_He looked up at the bright yellow-hued star in awe. So many times he had heard this particular story, but never did he tire of it. That one star among the billions of others… it was his father's –and his family's – pride. He hoped, one day, his would have his own star as well, right along next to his beloved father's._

"_Aniki… some day, a star will shine up there for me, as well. And when that day comes… Everyone will look up to me as they do you and otou-sama!"_

_The elder chuckled, deep in his throat, "is that so?"_

"_Of course! Just wait and see! Nandare!**(2)**"_

"_Okay, otouto. I believe in you. Make me proud!"_

_Ashura… ASHURA!_

"…Ani…ki…" mumbled the tiny blonde, even as he stopped shifting uncomfortably and fell into a deeper, dreamless sleep. He would awaken in the morning as he always did, and no memory of the dream would cloud his conscious.

The same could not be said for the malevolent creature sealed within him.

* * *

'_That_…' Harry thought as he looked over his shoulder and stared at the road leading off the highway and into Surrey, _'was probably one of the easiest things I have ever done_'.

He wasn't really exaggerating, either, when he thought back on his life and compared situations.

"Hedwig!" he called sharply, once he was sure he was a relatively safe distance from Number Four and, in turn, whatever unseen guard the Headmaster had placed there. His owl, a flurry of white against the dark blue sky, burst out of her hiding place –a small but thick grove of trees a little ways away –and soared down towards him until finally she landed gracefully on his left shoulder.

Three hours of planning had dwindled down to a fairly simple idea; liberate some of the Dursleys' food (after all: they ouldn't need it) and sneak out the back door. It was a poor plan that he was loathe to admit even worked, because that would mean that the Order hadn't even considered anything uninvited coming from the back of the house, but it _had_ worked and that was all that really mattered at that point.

Besides, it was either a stupidly simple plan or a highly convoluted, _complicated_ one and after everything he'd been through that night, he just couldn't bring himself to find any fun in such a thing.

Hedwig nipped him on the ear sharply after a few minutes spent staring into space, doing nothing and, after rubbing his sore lobe for a moment, decided that booking it was probably a good idea now; he wanted to get as far away as possible before daybreak, regardless that it would probably take longer for anyone to notice he's gone.

Mournfully, he took out the one item that the Wizarding World might be able to use to track him and let Hedwig take it in her beak –she would be able to find somewhere to keep his wand safe and he wouldn't have been able to use it anyway, due to the trace on it. Any accidental or wandless magic he did now –if he could actually figure out how to do it –shouldn't be registered so long as he wasn't at the Dursleys'**(3)**.

This was, of course, just a theory, but if Wizards could track people wherever they were, whenever they wanted -and if they left the traces on even after they left Hogwarts- then there was no way that someone like Voldemort would've gotten away with it as long as he had**(3)**.

That, and his gut was telling him that even if they _had_ put tracking spells of some sort on him, they wouldn't be able to find him after his little change in appearance**(3)**. He was going to listen to that gut feeling because the last time he ignored it, he led his friends straight into a trap and lost his godfather to a _curtain_.

Not to mention his luck was due in for another ridiculously good turn of events after all that.

"Take care of it girl, and come find me once you've finished. We're in for a rough few nights, I think," he told the pretty avian, and waved as she disappeared over the tree tops with the Holly and Phoenix feather wand.

Now, all he need to do was find somewhere he could stay for the night; piece of cake.

* * *

Finding somewhere safe to sleep was not, as he soon realized, a piece of cake.

Harry groaned as he wondered around MockshireLane, a suburb a good eighteen miles from Surrey (though how he knew that particular fact, he couldn't say). It was late and he'd already had to dodge around six rather shifty-looking people that smelled rather unpleasantly of booze and ill-intent, plus that one guy who appeared to be looking through his neighbour's garbage –which was just plain creepy and kind of gross.**(4)**

At first he had tried asking door-to-door for somewhere to stay, but all the houses that seemed moderately friendly slammed the door in his face and after lucky number nine he was seriously considering sleeping in a tree or something.

'_This would never happen in Japan_,' he sulked, before stopping when he realized he'd never been to Japan in his life and had no legitimate reason to think such a thing.

Deciding he was much too tired to get worked up and that said strange thought was just a symptom of his lack of sleep and the changes that had caused this whole situation, he continued on his way without too much worry over it.

'_Just concentrate on surviving the night_,' he told himself, '_no point getting anxious about it when I might not even make it to morning_.' It was a rather pessimistic thought, but he'd never really been an optimistic person in the first place.**(5)**

Harry kept on searching.

* * *

Her Master had changed a lot in a very short time. And he was still changing –she could feel it. Her Master's energies were shifting and evolving, to something _wilder_, and more powerful.

But that didn't really matter, because changes or no changes he was still her beloved Master and he had given her a very important task –hide the powerful conduit-stick where it would be safe, and where no one else would be able to find it.

She was incredibly proud of her Master; she knew him very well, and he was taking things considerably better than anyone could have possibly expected him to. She _knew_ he was special, had known it the moment he'd entered her shop, all tiny and bright-eyed and absolutely _adorable_.

Catching a strong Southerly wind, she let it guide her over mountains and valleys and houses, all far, far down below her and so very beautiful. Even when on an important mission from her Master, she allowed herself a moment or five to revel in the sensation and _freedom_ of flying –oh, how she loved being an owl!

Soon enough, though, she had spotted _the place_, and was gliding gracefully downwards with only her task on her mind. She had a lot of work to do, and very little time to do it, but she would succeed if only because her Master believed she would; and she would rather die than fail her dear Master.

_I will be back with you soon_, she promised to the skies, willing it to reach the endearing black-haired child.

She had a feeling it would.

* * *

In an empty house, devoid of furniture but not of a certain someone curled up in the warmest corner he could find, Harry smiled without really knowing why, eyes sliding closed as sleep finally overtook him.

A thought, forgotten as soon as it made itself known, flitted across his mind for a mere, drowsy moment…

_She'll be back by morning_. **(6)**

* * *

**A/N: ... Gah, next time I'm just going to let the plot explain itself, screw trying to do it myself and just making it sound... bleh. Anyway...  
**

**You'll notice numbers in the text above... yes, I went there. But I felt the need to explain because it's probably never going to be mentioned in the story anyway.  
**

**(1) **Yes, I used the Yellow Flash's name (or, at least, one of them), but kitsune-Arashi needed a good name (starting with A, because my mind seems to want to make a bit of a theme, here) and it is not, technically, his real name anyway (or, at least, I don't consider it such) so it was fair game. If you're wondering, I made Arashi Inari's favourite messenger si I could give him a star and have his kids call him Otou-sama instead of something less formal like tou-san. He has eleven kits, by the way. Had. Has. Whatever.

**(2)** Alright, so far as I know, Nandare doesn't mean anything, it's just something cute I gave Kyu-chan to say. Like Naruto's Dattebayo. Also, making him so much like Naruto wasn't actually my intention, it just... kind of happened. So now there's a lot more symbolism to the Jinchuriki-Bijuu situation, and it was totally on accident. :D

**(3)** 'Kay, this is what I was groaning about at the start of the A/N. But I needed a reason to get rid of his wand (don't ask why, 'cause I don't really know) and I figured that, with his new (or old, dpending on how you look at it) kistune senses, his pretty spot-on gut feelings and a little leap of logic, he _may_ have come to that conclusion. At the very least, I got to make Harry reference Sirius' devestating passing as 'death by curtain'. (And no, I can't what that's from so credit and kudos to whomever or wherever I got it from.) Also, don't mind the many '3's, I just felt that putting one 3 for three separate paragraphs was just... meh... even though they're all in a row.

**(4)** Two things - I'm not sure if there's any such Lane called Mockshire, but if there is... well, I'm using it. Second, yes, Harry can smell people's intent now, but he isn't noticing because it's rather instinctive and kind-of ingrained into his nature. Don't worry, he'll realize it soon, when he's not so exhausted and distracted.

**(5)** If you know the Harry Potter-verse at all, you'll know what I'm getting at here.

**(6)** This may be axpanded on at a later date, but basically it's his kitsune-senses again. Since kitsune are magical creatures and strongly connected to all things magical, the earth/nature(being foxes and all), and Inari, it's not so far-fetched that they may sense the intent of someone or something (a pet, for instance) close to them.

**Right, now that that's outta the way...**

**I know the chapters are short, but there's not really much going on so early in the story and if I don't cut it off here it'll just be as if I'm dragging it on, and no one wants that -it's boring. Don't worry, things will pick up soon.  
**

**Thanks for all the reviews, everyone, and thanks to all the people who put this story on alerts. Again, I'm sorry for taking such a long time to update, but... well, you know how it is. :3  
**

**Hope you enjoyed it! Ciao!  
**

**-Deadly  
**


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